


Break the Cycle

by yaboyj



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 08:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17742911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaboyj/pseuds/yaboyj
Summary: Travis had more than a few bad habits. He was irrationally angry, self-loathing, and needed a change. Sal fit this description.





	1. Chapter 1

Travis had always hated the ceiling fan in his room. There was no sense in it from a foreign standpoint, it was just a fan. It brought the room together, circling ‘round and ‘round, refreshing the stale air. But there was just something about staring at something day in and day out, the way it circled every hour, every minute. He could turn it off, but there was no point, it would be stuck in its cycle no matter what. There was no way to change, maybe that was what he hated so much. It was static, even in its movement. An ouroboros, ever circling, consuming itself in its path.

He couldn’t stand it. 

He stood, pushing his sheets off the sides of the bed as he moved to his bathroom. His clothes left him as he entered the ceramic cell. There was something comforting about a bathroom, past its purpose as a necessity to human function. Its bricked in walls, the cold tile of the floor was so easing. The room sucked all emotion from it, all heat escaping through the cracks in the tile. And emotions were so disorganized, so messy.

Travis pulled out the drawers below his sink, reaching to the back for a plastic baggy full of stolen makeup and women’s clothes. He pressed the plastic tight to his chest, letting out a cold breathe. He couldn’t help but to glance behind him in paranoia, but he knew his father never came to check on him, never this late. He spilled the bag to the countertop, a few stray lipsticks falling to his sink. His hand shook as he applied the cosmetics, inexperience still leaving his makeup looking less than desirable. He slid into the blue, pleated skirt crumpled from months in the bag.

Travis stared at his reflection. His hips swayed lightly, but he felt nothing but fear. He grasped at his twine cross necklace with a gasp of cold air and slipped from the clothes and into his shower. His hands fumbled for the knob, turning it straight to cold.

He shook as the ice hit him like bullets, and looked down as the makeup bled down his chest like blood from a wound. He stepped from the shower weakly, pulling a towel over his sensitive skin. Shoving his stash back behind the drawers he left the cold prison and collapsed to his bed.

The ceiling fan spun above him. Around and around. Circling.

He curled in the damp towel and he slept.

* * *

Travis woke shivering, his windows still dark. He pulled himself out of bed, shaking as he got dressed and stepped downstairs getting breakfast. He always got up earlier than his mother or father, no matter if it was a weekend or day. 

He felt around in the dark for the pantry, not intending to wake his parents up any time soon, and managed to pour himself a bowl of raisin bran. He ate silently, watching as the sun began to turn the outside from pitch black to shades of dark grey. He spooned into his cereal, watching the old school clock tick away.

5:43 am. His father would be waking up soon to open up the church.

Travis shoved his books together into his bag, washing his bowl and loading it into the dishwasher before heading down the road. He could see enough to watch the monolithic worship building pass by him as he walked towards the main road. It stood above the town, a silhouette in this light. When he was younger, he was taught of how the church was built upon the tallest hill in the area to look after all of God’s children and keep them safe. He couldn’t help but feel these days as if he were being scrutinized, watched. His footsteps picked up the pace, putting the building out of his peripheral vision.

He stopped at the bus sign where he normally got on for a moment before recalling his conversation the day before in the bathroom stalls.

He wanted to talk to Sally again, but he knew he’d never have the chance with all the boy’s friends around. He turned down the road and started walking to school. About halfway there the bus passed him and he could hear jeers from Sally’s friends and tried to put it out of his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if he should just give up on any hopes he had of a relationship- a friendship with Sal. With how much he tormented the smaller boy and his friends, he had doubts they would ever be able to accept him, even with Sal’s surprising kindness.

He felt the guilt pool in his stomach like an ulcer at the way he’d treated such a kind boy all these years. Not just any boy, but the boy he was so ‘crazy’ about. What a fucking dick he was. Pulling pigtails was what toddlers did to girls they had crushes on, not boys in high school.

Travis groaned into his hands, consumed by embarrassment for all of first period english.

Travis went through the motions, first period, second, spend the whole period avoiding looking at Sally, go to lunch, pick at food. The school lunches always made him sick, but he never had the energy to make any to bring from home. He stared down at the amorphous, unidentifiable meat slop he had been dealt with a grimace. He poured his tray into the garbage, his head feeling hazy and tired.

He looked discreetly around the lunch room, only to see a flash of blue pushing through the cafeteria doors. Travis followed immediately.

Travis didn’t know why he was following the smaller boy. He couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him, much less a reason for poorly disguised stalking were he prompted to explain himself. Something always worked out. Or, well, someone got punched, it was hard to tell. Travis watched from around the corner as the boy unlocked his locker, his fingers tapped nervously on the faded wall. He was about to turn and leave, before he was spotted as Sal closed his locker.

“Travis?”

Well, no way out now. Might as well do your best, Phelps.

“Uh- um, hey Sally? I was just- uh…” The smaller boy’s head tilted slightly, watching Travis scramble. “Walking by.” He could feel the sweat on his forehead.

That absolutely wasn’t your best, jerkoff.

Sal smiled, or at least Travis thought so, his eyes were the only part of his expression visible through the mask. If he hadn’t spent the majority of their time together harassing him, Travis probably would have an easier time reading Sal’s silence.

“Cool, did you need something?”

Sal shuffled his books for the next period in his hands. Travis didn’t have to look to know it was biology, but he did anyways. There was something relaxing about focusing on the way Sal’s fingers clamped around the textbooks. The soft black nail polish that accented his hands, his preened cuticles, the small spots of paint that remained on his hands from the days before.

God, he was in over his head here.

“Yeah, um.” Think, Travis, god. What did you need again? He couldn’t think quick on his feet. “I know that you’re doing really well in math and I could use some help.”

Sal bounced on his heels out of habit, his pigtails bouncing with him. He was so cute, Travis couldn’t breathe.

“I would, uh, ask Todd since he does after school tutoring but-”

Sal bounced again, this time his skirt flaring around his hips.

“I get it, hard to tutor your bully.” Sal nodded slightly, ignoring the way Travis flushed in embarrassment. “It’s cool, are you free after school? We can study at my apartment.”

Travis didn’t care to remember how eagerly he had nodded in agreement. Or how much his skin had shivered when Sal had grabbed his hand to write down his phone number in blue marker. Travis didn’t think of any of that the rest of the school day, absolutely not.

He definitely did not smile throughout his last three classes.

No, of course not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rewriting a fic i posted a few days ago bc it wasn't up to parr. anyways enjoy my beautiful boy trav


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sal helps Travis with math.

As the bell rang, signalling the end of the school day, Travis skidded down the halls pushing past a sea of highschoolers. Sal had told him to wait outside the school and he would meet him after the buses left. He kicked his feet nervously against the ground, dirt flying into the air. Travis had begun to gnaw at his lower lip before Sal finally appeared from around the corner.

“Hey Travis, sorry I had to let my friends know I was walking home.” Sal shifted, pushing his bag further up his back and pulling on the straps. Travis shifted nervously, from foot to foot.

“Did you mention that I was going with you?”

Sal shrunk slightly into his turtleneck.

“No.”

Travis felt his stomach curl. They walked the rest of the way in not quite comfortable silence.

When they came to the Addison Apartments, Travis couldn’t help but feel hesitant, staring up at the monstrous building. He had never been inside the building, not having any friends who lived there, or truly any friends at all. There was just something about it that sent chills up his spine. Sal seemed to have no qualms with the building, strutting in straight to the elevator. Travis followed skittishly, grasping the elevator’s rail as soon as he made it in.

“I’ve never been here before.” He said weakly, listening as the elevator creaked dangerously upwards. Sal let out a small laugh, watching him lean against the wall.

“I can tell. You can let go of the railing, Trav. It’s a pretty sturdy elevator.” Travis shrunk away from the wall of the metal box, flushing red, before he began to inch closer once again.

The box let out one last creak before slowly reopening to Sal’s floor.

“This place has gotta be a hundred years old.” Travis scoffed under his breath as he followed the other boy into a small, cozy apartment. This broke another laugh from behind Sal’s prosthetic.

“Something like that.” He threw his keys to a counter before landing on a couch leaned against the wall. Sal unzipped his bag, pulling out a variety of math textbooks, flipping to the material covered that day.

“Okay, what were you having trouble with in math?”

Paying attention, he thought, pushing down the fluttering in his stomach. Travis tapped his fingers against his arm nervously.

“Uh… just about everything…” Sal stared for a moment and Travis wondered if he was regretting agreeing to help him before Sal flipped to the start of the book and straightened up.

“Alright, let’s start with today then.” He said, patting the couch cushion beside him.

* * *

They had been working over the units for the past couple hours. Sal was a genius, and as much as Travis was glad for any moment around him he was extra grateful for this help. He really didn’t feel comfortable letting his parents know he was about to flunk math in exchange for help with his material.

Unfortunately Travis had gotten hopelessly stuck in the statistics section.

“I still don’t understand the difference between stratified and clustered sampling. This is bullshit!” He slammed the textbook in his lap on impulse, his hand hovering clenched over the book realizing how stupid he must sound. His cheeks flushed for the millionth time that day, before he brought the same hand to his cheek and dropped his head limp in defeat. He could hear Sal sigh from beside him and tensed as a number of thoughts ran through his head. He wasn’t trying hard enough, he was annoying Sal, he was being stupid. He hated how suddenly aware he was of the clamminess in his palms.

“It’s okay, Travis. We’ve been working for a few hours we should take a break.” And just like that, all the tension and the fear just dissipated. Travis was right when he was writing that stupid love letter.

Sal was amazing.

The kind, wonderful, peaceful boy sat on the carpet in front of his television sorting through a handful of VHS tapes.

“What kind of movies are you into?”

Travis’ thoughts travelled to gushing romantic films, with girls pining helplessly over their beloveds, trails of rose petals, and love letters written in swirling cursive. He flushed at how sissy he sounded, staring into his lap.

“Horror.”

Sal pushed in a tape labeled ‘Alien, 1979’ in black sharpie into the television. Travis jumped within the first five minutes, nearly falling off the couch.

The movie itself was terrifying, for a moment he wished he had a mask as well, Sal hadn’t even moved half an hour in. Travis couldn’t believe how calm he was as members of the crew were picked off one by one. However, even with all the fear, the real adrenaline came from the proximity to Sal. They had made some popcorn, but the heat from the bowl barely masked how much warmth was radiating off of Travis. He was overwhelmed entirely by how embarrassing he must seem, barely able to handle sitting next to another boy. Even the slight touch of Sal’s ripped jeans pressing against his leg was reminding him how entirely touch starved he was.

He tried dearly to focus on the horror movie, and eventually was able to blank out his surroundings as he latched onto Ripley’s character. There weren’t many movies with leading women and most with them weren’t especially engaging to Travis but damn, she was such a badass. Despite the fear, both of the boys were cheering her on as the movie closed with Ripley shooting the alien into space. As the the screen turned to black, Travis barely heard the sound of static from the other room over his heart beat. Sal passed Gizmo, his very round cat, over to Travis who calmed almost immediately after holding him, to go check on something in the other room.

When he returned Sal seemed about as nervous as one could seem through a prosthetic mask. Arranging to meet up again tomorrow, Sal invited Travis to stay at his apartment until he returned but it was getting late and Travis could only stay out for so long without his father noticing.

Checking his flip phone, Travis sped up his pace. He had about an hour before his father returned home from the church.

Silently unlocking the door, he slid into his house and up the stairs unseen. Working on the rest of his homework, skimming through english and biology, he worked until he heard the call of his mother for dinner.

The Phelps family had always ate together, no matter the time or situation, no matter whether it was wanted or comfortable. As the three of them held hands in prayer, Travis dipped his head and recited his prayers quietly, avoiding the pointed look from his father as he nearly skipped over ‘Dear God’ at the start. He picked at his food, eventually finishing and excusing himself to retire to his room.

He watched the sun fall to the horizon and shine bright red light through his window sill, blocked only by his small and well cared for plants.

Waiting for the last footsteps from downstairs to cease, Travis finally pulled his phone from beneath his pillow and started a new message.

 _‘Sally Face, I really enjoy spending time with-’_ Backspace.

 _‘Sally, thank you for talking to me in the bathroom the other-’_ Backspace.

 _‘Sal, thanks for your help today.’_ Travis breathed out a sigh. Send.

He waited for a few moments, about to put his phone away at such a late hour, before a loud ‘ping’ sounded from his phone and he scrambled to silence it. He opened the response, squinting at the bright screen in the dark.

_Sal Fisher, 10:03 PM: no problem :~), see you tomorrow travvy_

Even in the dark, Travis could tell he was bright red.

He turned off his phone and hid it back under his pillow, rolling in his bed unable to sleep until hours later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love blushy trav


End file.
